


Ties That Bind

by cruisedirector



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bondage, Community: JetC, F/M, Hospitalization, Implied Consent, Massage, Plot What Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-02
Updated: 2002-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakotay's stuck in sickbay, strapped down to a biobed, totally helpless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties That Bind

**Author's Note:**

> Written on a dare to write a bondage story. I cheated. I don't think Chakotay minds, however.

Concentrate, he told himself, on how lucky you are to be alive.

He'd been directly under the ore deposit when the cave-in began. All that radioactive material smashing down, shredding his environmental suit...the radiation poisoning had been the easiest of his injuries to heal. Arm bones broken in dozens of places, and he'd almost lost his vision permanently when a shard of the noxious stuff had flown into his eye, burning so badly that he blocked out everything afterwards--his legs crumpling under the weight of the rock, his thigh snapping. He remembered nothing before waking up in Sickbay in great pain, hearing the Doctor's steady voice and then the captain's, thick with fear. Then the blackness took hold again, and he was grateful.

The next time he awoke, he realized that he couldn't move. Only the fingers of one hand, and his head, a little bit--had he been paralyzed? He started to panic, heard the Doctor say, "Good, you're awake. We've had to immobilize your limbs, you broke nearly every bone in your body. I'm going to give you a sedative so you can get some more rest while your body heals." The hiss of a hypo, and he slept again.

When he awoke again, he knew he must be recovering because every single part of his body was in agony. His head, his legs, his arms, his chest...he made a choked sound, heard Janeway say, "I think he's waking up." Pressure on his fingers, which he realized must be her hand. "Chakotay." Her voice very close to his ear, warm and moist, a little uneven. He groaned again and shuddered. "I'm sorry..." He couldn't stand it, he was going to scream if the pain didn't go away. He gripped her fingers as hard as he could, until he heard her gasp. "Doctor..." A convulsion racked him. Another hypo, and he knew no more.

When he awoke again he still could not move, but the pain was gone. There was a dull ache in much of his body, but the searing agony had left him. He was still immobilized, and his eyes were covered; it made him claustrophobic, though he knew he was in sickbay, the broad open room around him. He called for the Doctor.

"Ah, you're awake again." Sounds of readings being taken, though he suspected they were unnecessary; he could feel monitors on his head and hand. "You should be feeling somewhat better." The Doctor sounded chipper. "I'd inform the captain, but I sent her to bed. She's spent far too many hours in here today as it is. Unfortunately, Commander, we're going to have to keep your limbs strapped down for a few more hours, until the regeneration process is complete. I hesitate to pump any more sedatives in your system, but I can if you're too uncomfortable." He thanked the Doctor weakly and turned his concentration inward.

The first hour was difficult, but with effort he managed to put himself into a light trance. He meditated for an unknown length of time--which turned out to be about forty-five minutes--and afterwards, he was relaxed enough to sleep. When he awoke, he made small talk with the Doctor, who finally retreated into his office, leaving Chakotay alone--restless and increasingly claustrophobic. He couldn't see, he couldn't move, and at moments he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Every minor itch drove him insane. He was afraid to call the Doctor for a bedpan for fear he'd be catheterized, but his bladder was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and his legs seemed to be numb. He had to concentrate on slowing his breathing and relaxing. Helpless, lost, abandoned by the gods, spirits, ancestors, whatever powers drove the universe.

When the hand first touched his hip, he thought he must be dreaming. Then he focused, thinking it must be the Doctor or someone else working in sickbay. But the hand didn't seem to be examining him; it seemed to be teasing, running lightly along the inside of his thigh. Great. Lying immobilized, no eyesight, no use of his hands, his brain picked now to think about sex. Terrific, especially in this situation where he couldn't even relieve the tension in the usual way. His arms fought their straps for a moment and then gave up.

Mind over matter, he told himself, but the ghostly hand did not go away. Instead it was joined by another, on his other leg, stroking and kneading the muscles, driving the numbness away. A woman's hands, he realized, with long fingernails, pushing his robe aside as they worked their way up his thighs. His briefs were holding his half-hard penis down at an awkward angle; she shifted it through the cloth, stroking the length once before opening his robe to expose his chest.

He opened his mouth to ask what the hell, forced it shut again before the syllables could escape. He didn't want to know. It was probably one of the Delaneys or Ensign Hickman, on a dare from Paris or Kim, and if he asked, he'd have to do something about it later--like report her for harassment. Probably she would stop the moment he asked her to, and withdraw secretly. He'd never know. But he didn't want her to stop. He wanted to pretend to be asleep. He wanted to call her by another name, the name which had been in his thoughts from the moment the hands touched him.

Whatever the disembodied hands had in mind for him, he wanted it to happen. It had been so long, he just wanted to feel, blind and helpless as he was...she wouldn't abandon him in the middle, would she? The hands were on his chest, circling his nipples with fingertips, and as the head brushed low to plant a kiss on his chin, he caught the scent of her hair. Familiar.

Gods, spirits, ancestors, whatever powers drove the universe... She was straddling him, hands moving over his motionless arms, squeezing his hands in hers as her mouth slid upward from his chin to nibble on his lower lip. He wanted to arch up and kiss her, but the restraints held him too tightly. Leisurely, she moved her tongue over his lips, parting them as her head angled to brush her open mouth over his.

Again, he thought that he must be dreaming. The fingertips traced over his cheekbones, brushed his eyes beneath the protective material, then moved with great deliberation down his torso. Broad, tickling circles around his pecs, the nails used more judiciously as she wound toward his nipples; when she reached them, she pinched a little, sucking on his neck. The material of her uniform scratched on his skin. He knew that his penis was leaking, leaving a damp spot on his briefs. One hand descended to grasp him and began to pump the shaft through the cloth while she sat upright on him, her crotch pressing the base of his groin, heels against his thighs, free hand moving behind her to press the hard spot behind his testicles.

He thought he would come in his underwear, but she stopped, pulling them down. For a horrible moment he lost contact with her as she slid off his legs, and he nearly cried out. Then he felt her palms on his thighs again, and something wet made its way up his left calf, kissing his kneecaps, moving slowly, meanderingly, but inexorably towards his center. She had his legs pinned down with her weight before her mouth touched his genitals, first the base of the balls, then just the tip of her tongue sliding up his erection to the tip, tracing miniscule patterns on the swollen head. As he twitched and groaned aloud, she parted her lips and took him inside her mouth.

Strapped down to the biobed, he couldn't thrust, but he didn't need to; she had one hand on his balls and the other behind them, lightly tickling around his anus. She was moving her head up and down, swirling her tongue while she sucked, then just when he thought he couldn't stand it anymore she stopped, just pressing with one hand at the base while she kissed the tip a little and scraped her fingernails over his thigh to distract him. She did this for a long time, bringing him almost to climax and then slowing him down, stopping to finger his nipples or massage his buns.

What finally pushed him over the edge was when she leaned forward, so that he could feel her breasts against him. He imagined coming all over her uniform...then he was doing it, twitching and jerking in her hands and mouth, his entire body convulsing with pleasure in the restraints. He could feel his heart pounding, wondered vaguely if the Doc knew what they were doing. Surely she had turned him off? Not that it mattered, the Doc would get a full readout of his physical responses and figure it out anyway. She moved up to kiss him again, lightly, affectionately, and began to withdraw.

"Where are you going?" he asked hoarsely.

He felt her breath, warm in his ear. "Sleep now."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me." Her voice tinged with humor. He felt her wipe something across her face, then across his wet groin.

"You could have gotten caught doing this..."

"I'm fully dressed. *You* were the one who was going to get caught in a compromising position. I'll send back the Doctor as soon as I'm decent." She kissed him again, cleaned him up a little more, and closed his robe. For a moment he lost her, then he felt her pulling his briefs back into place.

"How do you feel now?" she asked him.

"I love you."

He hadn't meant to say it, but it was the only feeling he could put a name to, it overwhelmed everything else, it was tangible, more physical than the ache or the sores or the restraints. He heard her sharp intake of breath, fingers fluttering against his skin, and thought she would pull away from him. She didn't. She didn't say anything, but she left her hands where they were over his clothing, and for one moment she rested her head on his chest. Longer than she needed to. Longer than she would have, probably, if his arms had not been bound, and he could have caught her and trapped her there. Then she slid up so that he could feel her breath on his face, and her hands brushed his cheekbones.

"Sleep," she whispered again, and kissed him, and withdrew.

And to his later astonishment, he did.


End file.
